Unforgiving

You're just so cold and distant,
You will not let me in,
No matter how much I cajole you,
My fight's over before it begins.
I beg, plead and gnash my teeth,
Sweat dripping over this spot,
You're a nasty little network,
When my password I've forgot.

A few times I've been locked out of this program or that one. There is help available, but it still takes time, considering I have 14 passwords and they all have different requirements - number of characters, ratio of alphanumeric etc.

People Industry

Working with other people,
Is a constant source of fun,
If it wasn't for the last minute,
I'd never get anything done.
Competing timetables collide badly,
Egos come into play,
But I love the tension and
Wouldn't have it any other way.

Welcome to my world.

Hedgehog

A child was telling his class a story,
Just the other day,
About how they were getting a hedgehog,
And with it they could play.
The teacher was quite perplexed,
Saying, "I am quite confused,
There are no hedgehogs in Australia."
She was quite bemused.
The child answered confidently,
"I'm not making silly wishes,
Mummy she'd give Dad a hedgehog,
If he did the dishes" …

True story - teachers often have to cover up then forget tales like this one.

Monster Approaching

My dreams were twisted and troubled,
And I was wrestled from my sleep,
The blankets were wet and tangled,
In a heap around my feet.
I looked through the doorway,
And lumbering through the night,
Was the worst kind of monster,
Bulging with its awful might.
I vacillated on a course of action,
Run? No, instead,
I hunkered down and cowered,
With the blankets draped across my head.
And as it approached me murderously,
I sensed its sad defeat,
For everyone is aware that,
Monsters can't bite through a sheet.

This is a universal rule - see a monster, duck under the sheet - they can't bite through them.

A New Way of Thinking

If our heads came with shiny hinges
That made our noggins lift-off lids,
I'll bet all us poor students
Would be really smarter kids.
If our ears were little funnels
That hooked up to our brains,
I'll bet all our school learning
Could be done with little pain.
Instead of notes and study,
In place of books and pens,
We'd just go up to teacher
And say, "Pour some more smart in!"
She'd lift our lids and fill 'em up
With all the stuff she knows,
And when we got our fill of smart,
We'd simply holler, "Whoa!"
And if we ever took a test
And our thinking could not flow,
We'd just explain to teacher
That our thinking tank was low.
So she'd get her pail of knowledge,
And she'd make us tilt our tops.
She'd pour good things inside us
And when we'd leak, she'd stop.
But so far I've got no hinges,
And my funnels still are ears,
And teacher makes me study hard
And expects my ears to hear.
Perhaps some day it'll happen,
And perhaps all pigs will soar,
But until that magic moment comes
I'll just have to study more!

Repairs

With some pliers and some determination,
Some time and some glue,
Some chewing gum and a hammer,
There's nothing you can't do.

My name badge for school broke when I was wrestling the kids into the car. A new one would cost me $10. So, with some determination and a pair of pliers, I fixed the old one. Sort of.

Toxic

I dine on the depths of my despair,
And sup from my cup of pain,
I wallow in the mire of my self-pity,
Secure to be hurting again.
Perhaps I have found my purpose?
I suffer so completely and well,
That I should enable many others,
To find their personal hell?

Again, the first line just came to me - after lunch at the Principals' Conference. I wrote on with that line in mind. Plus, it reminds me of people who are what I call "toxic". They talk to anyone and that person comes away negative and depressed.

High Maintenance Gal

She's such a high maintenance kind of gal,
She jerks and she twitches,
She shuffles almost constantly,
Her hands massage constant itches.
She refuses to wear any shoes,
When at home or out shopping,
She berates and she curses me,
Then cries without stopping.
She drives me crazy with her demands,
In things I have little say,
But you can expect this with a pregnancy,
I love her more every day.

At the Principals' Conference one of our number was heavily pregnant. The shuffling, no shoes, itchy images came to me and I reflected on our family's two pregnancies.

Two Kisses

You balled up your fists up to me,
Lit by the early morn,
I gave you two kisses on the cheek,
On the day that you were born.
You fell from your bicycle,
The tears bright upon your face,
I gave you two kisses on the cheek,
And away you brightly raced.
I stand beside your loaded car,
Your hand loosely in mine,
You gave me two kisses on the cheek,
In the world you will be fine.
I watch as you drive away,
Proud as a mother hen,
I trap the kisses on my cheek,
And can't wait to have some again.

Our three year old said to me whilst on my knee, "Daddy, you look a bit cranky. I'll give you two kisses, then you'll be happy."

My Chosen Path

I'm on a path to self-destruction,
I skip on curb and grate,
I'm keen to destroy my everything,
I eagerly embrace my fate.
I'm ambivalent to any assistance,
I scorn such feeble things,
I'm longing for the inky blackness,
And the final peace that brings.

I was getting up to get another drink when the "I'm on a path to self-destruction" bit came to me (now, THAT'S a worry). When I sat down I wrote the rest. I don't feel that way, but being on a path to self-destruction seemed headed in that direction.

End of Term

School has been trudging forward,
For weeks numbering eleven,
The holidays are two away,
And then it's simply heaven.
They have been getting angry,
Bored and sick of school,
The constant tension and frustration,
But holidays make them drool.
Not long until their release from,
This lumbering form of Hell,
What's more I'm sure that,
The kids fell this way as well.

It has been a long term. The kids are betting cranky, the staff are tired. Some poor decisions are being made by everyone. Roll on, Father Time.

Trophy

You encouraged me to participate,
You made such a din,
You promised that I would be successful,
And that I would surely win.
But it appears that you deceived me,
You really have no class,
Please give me the trophy,
So I can cram it up your ass.

Oooooo - just a bit cranky about a personal experience - where I was encouraged to do something "because you have a great chance of winning" when all along I was invited to participate simply "to make up the numbers" and make someone else meet some nebulous target.

Silence

I ask you something simple,
You just stare
And frown.
Has our relationship eroded
To the point of no return?

I wait with patient silence
You just stare
And stare.
I am stubborn and single-minded,
I won't save you this time
Rest under your narrow blanket.

I am tempted to intervene
You are plainly uncomfortable
And withdrawn.
Do I set a difficult precedent
Or play your game?

This came from a conversation with a student. I asked her a simple question - she refused to answer. I suspect it was a power struggle. It served as the genesis of a poem, so I thank her for that part at least.

Just Playing with Words

Circumnavigate,
Circumcise,
Concise,
Conquest,
Request,
Relieve,
Believe,
Beneath,
Underneath,
Underpants.

For some reason I had the "Understand, Underpants" bit in my head. I saw the pattern and wondered how I would go about using it. It's surprisingly difficult, particularly when the first word that came into my head to start the series was "Circumnavigate". I considered trying to go for the whole alphabet, but remembered that life is finite.

Our Fight is Over

You and me have a history,
To you I have been cruel,
To me you have been determined,
That of me you would make a fool.
You have been prodigious in your efforts,
Rumours have been spread,
And I have cut you down so often,
The memories hurt my head.
But let's put that in the past,
That's where it deserves to be,
Come, accept this drink,
You look so parched and thirsty.
And as you slake your thirst,
Safe that our fight is done,
Know that your drink was poisoned,
And that I've finally won.

We live on 5 acres and have a weed that had taken over. It has taken me six moths of cutting, burning and poisoning to control it. However, I spent two hours yesterday poisoning any new growth. It is the growing season for the weed, but it's quite dry at the moment. Thus, the weeds look quite thirsty. As I was poisoning them I thought, "If I was the weed I'd see me coming and cringe, only to get a drink. Perhaps the weed thinks I'm finally being nice to its kind, when in fact I'm still trying to kill it." There you go.

You Don't Notice

I give you my very soul,
I proffer my all,
You don't even notice.

You've got to write a haiku every now and again.

A Man and his Dog

Living quite near to me,
Is a man and his hound,
They really piss me off,
When down the road they bound.
For they trot down the middle,
In their rhythmic groove,
They refuse to budge an inch,
For no-one they will move.
So, I was coming home cranky,
In need of a rest,
When I happened on the duo,
And decided to give them a test.
I kept driving towards them,
I was getting so near,
But they did not waver,
Or show a trace of fear.
Until I'd stopped before them,
And much to my intense shock,
The bastard caused my car damage,
With a large rock.
But far from seeking restitution,
Over the dents grieving,
I just ran over the bastard's dog,
And then called it even.

A few changes here. It's a woman and her dog. She walks down the centre of the road, or in my lane. Often when I approach her, if I swing to other side I'm on the crest of a hill, thus endangering myself and my passengers. But she doesn't move. So lately I haven't been swinging to the other side, just approaching her and slowing down if she doesn't move. She grudgingly gets off the road, but isn't happy about it. I guess I'm being stubborn, under the guise of being safe.

DVD Sale

It was a DVD sale,
For so long advertised,
And people were brought together,
Next to those they despised.
For each person hated the other,
Their loathing deep and complete,
For each person that attended,
Was another with which to compete.
They gathered deep onto the footpath,
Jostling for the best position,
For being too far away,
Was not a good proposition.
The doors flew open wide,
And people pushed and punched,
They dove headlong at the opening,
In a throng they were bunched.
The door frame exploded impressively,
As the horde thundered on,
They wanted to reach the tables,
Before the good titles were all gone.
I had delivered explicit instructions,
To my kids numbering two,
"Run under the legs of people,
And this I'm telling you -
Grab every DVD you can,
Snatch them if you must,
Because the adults will give into you,
Because that's only just.
Don't grab multiple copies,
Just a single of each one,
I'll signal with a whistle,
When I think we're done.
I'll go to the centre,
That's where the crowd will be,
Soph go right, Erin left,
And then in the centre meet me."
Soph was tugging with a gent,
Over a title that was rare,
She started crying with gusto,
For this tactic we'd prepared,
He sheepishly let her have it,
And Soph didn't linger,
She just smiled and kept going,
While he gave her the finger.
Erin crawled under the table,
Making it slightly sway,
Only to find tomorrow's releases,
Where they'd hidden them away.
I elbowed through all the people,
The kids did remarkably well,
We gathered some impressive titles,
The other shoppers can go to Hell.
We selected the ones we wanted,
Put the other ones on the table,
I know that this underhanded,
And even slightly unstable.
But my girls and I are addicted,
When we watch a DVD,
They grab a drink and some chips,
And come and sit on my knee.
For, they take after me like this,
And whatever the weather,
DVDs are our time enjoying,
Just being all together.

Well, it wasn't THAT bad, ummm, by the time we'd got there, there were only a handful of people in the store, so, the poem is a lie. This time. I've been to ones like that, though. I really think that the sales are becoming far less angry, as more and more people have stocked their libraries to the point that they don't want many more movies. (I looked at the Top 100 list the other day - I own all the ones that I would pick from there already.) Plus, the rental places are forever selling off excess copies.

As for my endless fascination that is DVD - I love watching movies and can watch a good film many times. Just last weekend I was watching a film I've seen 20 times or so and picked up things that I hadn't previously. Plus, the commentaries and bonus materials are fascinating. Each weekend I go out with the girls to the stores so we can spend time together. While we're out I look in my favourite DVD haunts. I also look periodically on eBay. Many times I don't buy one. Sometimes I buy two or three. If I'm in doubt, I don't buy it.

Grey Hairs

I had just been to the toilet,
And while I was washing my hands,
I looked into the mirror,
And a tremor struck my hands.
For standing there before me,
Returning my horrified stares,
Was a person besieged by,
A multitude of grey hairs.
Now, I've found the odd one,
But didn't dwell in the dumps,
But now they have multiplied,
And are there in clumps.
It's the first time I've noticed them,
They have come to the fore,
But I won't worry about them,
Because then there will be more.
I won't dye my hair either,
That never looks quite right,
Plus, where do you draw the line,
When against aging you fight?
I won't pluck them out either,
Against that I'm firmly set,
Because with my receding hairline,
I need every hair I can get.
So, perhaps I should become more stately,
And less inclined to rage,
This could be a blessing in disguise -
It's time to act my age.

Nah.

I did just see them for the first time. Bastards.

What Work is Like

Coming to work is like have a crap,
You do it every day,
It's just the minor details that are different,
And that's all I've got to say.

Pretty much true, isn't it?

Stop

Stop yelling at me
Stop stomping in the house
Stop kicking the dog
It's not my fault.
Stop shredding the newspaper
Stop all that crying
Stop eating chocolate
It's just that time of the month.
Stop bitching at the kids
Stop breaking dishes
Stop whining about it
You still have to pay your credit card bill.

This is a twisted poem - I was hoping that you'd not be expecting the real reason the subject was venting their anger.

Fog

Broiling with tumbling intensity
The fog embraces the trees
Warmly encircling them
In its damp embrace.
Sheathing everything in indiscriminate grey
And blurring harsh outlines
Objects meld into delightful blends
Striking, startling and surprising.
The light diffuses through the mist
In some places harsh and glaring
In others making little impact
Merely adding to the mystery.
Until the day moves inexorably onwards
Gradually burning off the mist
Erasing evidence of the event
But leaving a lasting memory.

I awoke to find a misty morning. The way that it seemed to almost imperceptibly flow and move through the trees inspired me.

Bad Dreams

I know you've just be frightened,
You're timid as a sheep,
Come into my bed to escape your demons,
And in my arms you can sleep.
I'll banish the gibbering images,
And the ones that have no form,
I'll be the rock in your life,
Through the night to the early morn.

This is in the Dad Job Description - and I love doing it. I love helping my kids and to help them when they're frightened brings home the awesome responsibility that is being a parent.

Street Artist

I need to write my name everywhere,
On the bus and in the train,
To see a blank and fresh painted surface,
Causes me much pain.
I'll tag any type of building,
The street and gutters too,
The hospital and the police station,
The morgue and the zoo.
You should appreciate my commitment,
My art and work ethic,
To not be surrounded by street art,
Is just bordering on pathetic.
I work steadily on new designs,
With products experiment,
Using new and different paint techniques,
And products I've been sent.
I'll paint on any surface,
I'm a concentration of skill,
I'll even paint moving objects,
To get a challenging thrill.
But recently I got caught again,
To spend the night in jail,
This is just another warning,
Through the experience I'll sail.
Of course there were no witnesses,
Even though everyone new,
There was not enough for a court of law,
There was nothing no-one could do.
But there was something in the water,
It put me straight to bed,
I awoke the next morning,
With a rolling thunder rumbling,
In the centre of my head.
My cellmates were quite hysterical,
Behind them my thoughts lagged,
Until I looked at my body,
For in my sleep I had been tagged.
The officers and my cellmates,
The business owners I'd defaced,
Had all come in with a tattoo artist,
And over me graffiti placed.
Like, "One day I'll be man-sized",
Placed on my balls and dick,
And in the centre of my forehead,
"And you thought a stone was thick ..."
Of course there were no witnesses,
Even though everyone new,
There was not enough for a court of law,
There was nothing no-one could do.

This is a twisted poem, where the subject (I HATE them) is the subject of the twist. If only it were true ...

Reach

Tangible excitement grips me
In its thrilling embrace
Providing me with the fortitude
To bravely step forward.
The possibilities seem endless
Limited only by my own courage
Take my hand and help me
Reach for the ice chip stars.

My toothbrush is a "Reach" brand - so you can reach all your teeth. I took the title and applied it to someone who wanted something, so had to reach for it.

So Proud

I'd love you no matter what,
I'd sing it long and loud,
For you are just so remarkable,
Of you I am so proud.
But recently you achieved so much,
I had expected the worst,
But you came out ahead of all,
My heart was fit to burst.
You're just such a kind-hearted one,
And whilst that's not a sin,
Often you go unrecognised,
And I was so pleased to see you win.
So, take these accolades on offer,
And the spoils proudly wear,
But no matter what comes tomorrow,
For you I'll always be there.

Sophie came first in her race at Sports Day. She's such a sweet kid - it was good to see her win something - normally she'd slow down for someone else.

I've Got Good Teeth

I've got such good teeth,
They're shiny and they're white,
I admire them at every opportunity,
Morning, noon and night.
You can see them glistening brightly,
From near of from far,
I keep them so scrupulously clean,
Beside my bed in a jar.

After my recent trips to the dentist I thought, "I've got good teeth." I just twisted it a bit.

The Seagull

You are the human seagull,
In my life often stopping,
To fly in from the bright blue sky,
To leave with me a dropping.
You feel cleansed by the visit,
I hope you’re proud of it,
Because you have left me feeling stressed,
In your pile of shit.

This is my day. However, I've developed the Monkey Theory.

People come to me with a monkey on their shoulder. The monkey is their problem. When they start to speak, the monkey puts a foot on my shoulder too. They can leave me with the monkey, or take it with them. I like to encourage them to take it with them. At worst, I take the monkey, train it for a short while, then give it back.

Reap the Whirlwind

For years I have been patient,
Courteous and you respected,
But lately my values have changed,
To your side they have defected.
You have not made any effort,
To give me courtesy,
So now I will give you back,
What you have given to me.
My vitriol will be explosive,
I’ll interject into what you say,
I’ll be aggressive with my choice of words,
Each and every day.
I’ll frown and complain loudly,
And cry that this isn’t fair,
I’ll mutter obscenities under my breath,
As I give you a poisonous stare.
I’ll cease to pay attention,
To your every word,
And when you ask a question,
I’ll pretend that I haven’t heard.
This has been brought to you by you,
My anger you have empowered,
The milk of human kindness,
For over time can be soured.

Sometimes I'd like to give people back the attitude they give me. But that would make me like them. Nah, I'll just infuriate them with stubborn politeness.

Pocket PC

I have a new pocket PC.
iPaq is its name,
I’ve had PDAs before,
But this one’s not the same.
Internet and email capable,
The day’s tasks and meetings,
When it synchs with my PC,
They send the fondest greetings.
Pocket Word and Excel,
Audio through MP3,
Lots of pixelicious colour,
So images you can see.
Bluetooth facility included,
And I don’t mean to gloat,
But software that makes it,
Replace every household remote.
So, when you see me playing,
In my pocket for a while,
It’s electronic, not organic,
That’s the reason for my smile.

I love my iPaq! It's just enhanced the way I do things away from a pc.